Edward Vere

Earl of Oxford, was one of the many courtier poets in Elizabeth's time. He held the office of Lord High Chamberlain, and had command of a ship in the fleet sent out to resist the Spanish Armada. He was born in 1534, and died in 1604.

A Renunciation

IF women could be fair, and yet not fond,

Or that their love were firm, not fickle still,
I would not marvel that they make men bond

By service long to purchase their good will;
But when I see how frail those creatures are,
I muse that men forget themselves so far.

To mark the choice they make, and how they change,
How oft from Phoebus they do flee to Pan!
Unsettled still, like haggards wild they range,

These gentle birds that fly from man to man!
Who would not scorn and shake them from the fist,
And let them fly, fair fools, which way they list?

Yet for disport we fawn and flatter both,

To pass the time when nothing else can please,
And train them to our lure, with subtle oath,
Till, weary of their wiles, ourselves we ease?

And then we say when we their fancy try,
To play with fools, O what a fool was I !

George Gascoigne

was the son of Sir John Gascoigne of Walthamstow, Essex, and it is said that he was disinherited by his father. He was born 1535 (7 ?), and was educated at Cambridge. He removed to Gray's Inn, but soon left for a military life in Holland under the Prince of Orange. As a result of a quarrel he resigned, and, returning to England, became attached to the Court of Elizabeth. He wrote masques for the Queen's entertainment. Also he was the author of several dramas, and, beside shorter poems, The Steele Glas, a satire, dedicated to Lord Grey of Wilton, a Puritan, to whom a year or two later Spenser acted as secretary in Ireland. Gascoigne translated a comedy from Ariosto, and a tragedy from Euripides. He died 1577.

A Riddle

A LADY once did ask of me

This pretty thing in privity :

'Good sir,' quoth she, 'fain would I crave

One thing which you yourself not have :

Nor never had yet in times past,

Nor never shall while life doth last.

And if you seek to find it out,

You lose your labour out of doubt.

Yet if you love me as you say,
Then give it me, for sure you may.'

George Gascoigne

The Arraignment of a Lover

AT Beauty's Bar as I did stand,

When False Suspect accusèd me,
George! quoth the Judge, hold up thy hand!
Thou art arraigned of Flattery:

Tell therefore how thou wilt be tried!
Whose judgment here wilt thou abide ?

My Lord! quoth I, this Lady here,
Whom I esteem above the rest,
Doth know my guilt, if any were :

Wherefore her doom shall please me best.

Let her be judge and juror both
To try me, guiltless by mine oath.

Quoth Beauty: No! it fitteth not

A Prince herself to judge the cause :
Will is our Justice, well you wot,
Appointed to discuss our laws.
If you will guiltless seem to go,
God and your country quit you so!

Then Craft, the crier, called a quest,

Of whom was Falsehood foremost fere;

A pack of pickthanks were the rest,

Which came false witness for to bear : The jury such, the Judge unjust,

Sentence was said I should be trussed.

Jealous, the gaoler, bound me fast

To hear the verdict of the bill:

George! quoth the Judge, now thou art cast,
Thou must go hence to Heavy Hill
And there be hanged all by the head :
God rest thy soul when thou art dead!

Down fell I then upon my knee,

All flat before Dame Beauty's face,
And cried: Good Lady! pardon me,
Which here appeal unto your grace:

You know, if I appear untrue,
It was in too much praising you.

And though this Judge do make such haste
To shed with shame my guiltless blood,
Yet let your pity first be placed

To save the man that meant you good!
So shall you show yourself a Queen,
And I may be your servant seen.

Quoth Beauty Well! because I guess

What thou dost mean henceforth to be,

Although thy faults deserve no less

Than Justice here hath judged thee, Wilt thou be bound to stint all strife, And be true prisoner all thy life?

George Gascoigne

Yes, Madam! quoth I, that I shall :
Lo, Faith and Truth my sureties!
Why then, quoth she, come when I call ;
I ask no better warranties.

Thus am I Beauty's bounden thrall,
At her command when she doth call.